


Pretty When You Cry

by mirawonderfulstar



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Divine Pulse Deaths (Fire Emblem), F/M, One Shot, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26612212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirawonderfulstar/pseuds/mirawonderfulstar
Summary: Lorenz was crumpled on the ground, his face screwed up in pain, the hand on his arm doing very little to stem the flow of blood pouring from his wound.“Lorenz, goddess, I’m sorry,” Byleth said as she scrambled towards him and started rummaging in the pouch she kept on her hip for such emergencies.“It is nothing, professor,” Lorenz gasped out, a valiant attempt to maintain his composure even as his eyes watered and threatened to spill tears down the sharp lines of his face.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Pretty When You Cry

The battlefield was a separate world to Byleth. One thing seemed to flow irrevocably into the next, a dance of cause and effect, life and death, time suspended as she pleased. Fighting put her into a different frame of mind— confident, composed, utterly sure of herself and her decisions.

A startled cry shattered Byleth’s perfect concentration and she only barely managed to duck out of the way of the arrow heades straight for her. She whipped her head around for the source of the sound and felt her sword slip through her fingers as she saw Lorenz fall from his horse and hit the ground, hard, his body curling around a wound that had pierced the mail of his shoulder. His attacker was even now bearing down on him, preparing to land the killing blow with his lance.

Byleth shot off a fireball just in time to cull the archer and then she was running, sword in hand and poised to Pulse back a moment if need be. Lorenz’s hands were raised and a thick darkness was forming between them, but much too slowly, and Byleth wasn’t going to reach him in time. She couldn’t watch, was already closing her eyes as she pulled herself back through the battle, but not soon enough that she didn’t hear his scream and the horrible sound of metal on metal as—

Byleth opened her eyes and she was there, between Lorenz and the opposing cavalier. In her haste she’d mis-aimed, come back not quite far enough. Lorenz was already on the ground and she could hear him gasp in surprise and confusion as she appeared in front of him.

Claude was yelling from across the battlefield. “Hey, teach, what—?” 

“Hold the front line!” Byleth roared back as she raised her weapon. She parried the approaching lance with ease, thrust, and watched the enemy dodge. When he came back in for another attack she snapped his weapon in half with her sword and plunged it home. As she pulled the sword free again she scanned the battlefield she was relieved to see that with the exception of the foe now bleeding out at her feet, nobody had managed to break through. Byleth breathed a sigh of relief for a moment before a whimper brought her back to the reason she’d come charging over here. 

Lorenz was crumpled on the ground, his face screwed up in pain, the hand on his arm doing very little to stem the flow of blood pouring from his wound. 

“Lorenz, goddess, I’m sorry,” Byleth said as she scrambled towards him and started rummaging in the pouch she kept on her hip for such emergencies. 

“It is nothing, professor,” Lorenz gasped out, a valiant attempt to maintain his composure even as his eyes watered and threatened to spill tears down the sharp lines of his face.

“It’s not nothing, eat this,” Byleth shoved a bit of healing herb into his mouth and he spluttered for a second before chewing. Byleth cursed her heavy-handedness and cursed it even more when Lorenz let out a cry of pain as she attempted to get his mail off so she could heal him. 

“I’m sorry,” Byleth murmured again. He really was crying now, tears rolling down his face as he bit his lip hard enough she wondered it didn’t bruise. 

“Quite alright,” he responded breathlessly. Then he winced as though steeling himself and took his hand away from his wound long enough to scrabble at his breastplate, which Byleth helped him remove before pulling his mail over his head. His face had gone pale and he was shivering, and Byleth took a deep breath to steady herself. Lorenz mimicked the action, his pale violet eyes locked with hers, pleading, desperate. 

Neither of them spoke as she laid her hands on his arm, persuading blood to draw itself back and skin to knit. His shoulder would likely scar, Byleth thought absently as she watched the pool of red on his linen shirt shrink to barely anything at all. She could do in a pinch but Manuela was the expert when it came to this type of magic. She’d send Lorenz to see her when they returned to the monastery. 

Lorenz let out a little moan and Byleth’s attention returned to his face, searching for signs of pain or fear and finding only gratitude and… something else. 

“I am in your debt,” Lorenz said in an imitation of his usual flowery way of speaking, though the effect was ruined somewhat by the tremor in his voice. It occurred to Byleth, suddenly and unexpectedly heatedly, that this was as disheveled as she had ever seen him and that as unfortunate as the circumstances were, it was… stirring. In another circumstance it might even be pleasing. Seeing Lorenz’s hands trembling, voice cracking, eyes pleading as she guided him to— 

Byleth slammed the lid closed on such thoughts with a flush of embarrassment, breaking eye contact as she stood and brushed dirt from her knees. “Of course not,” she said in a gruff voice that reminded her more of Jeralt than she would have liked to admit. “I’m your professor. It’s my job to take care of you.” And oh, if she wasn’t abruptly imagining taking care of him in an entirely different way, his mouth open on a different kind of gasp, eyes glazed over with pleasure as she—  _ stop it. _

Byleth stuck out a hand to pull Lorenz to his feet and he took it, touch somehow warm even through the glove of his armor. “Shall we rejoin the others?” Lorenz asked as he regained his balance, and Byleth looked over at where Claude and Hilda were teamed up against what looked to be the final bandit. 

“It looks like they’ve got it,” Byleth said with approval, and Lorenz hummed his agreement. 

“I really do insist on thanking you,” he said, and Byleth turned back to him in time to see him smile softly. “You seemed to appear out of nowhere, I shudder to think what might have happened to me if you hadn’t been there just in time.” 

Byleth felt a shadow cross her face as the echo of Lorenz’s scream played in her mind, but she did her best to brush it off and smile back. “Don’t worry, Lorenz,” she said, a slight tease in her voice, “I’ll always protect you.” 

Lorenz’s answering smile made her want to catch some delicate creature for the pleasure of watching it writhe in her hands. 


End file.
